The Number Killer
by KomatheSoap
Summary: Antonio and his partner Ludwig have been tasked with finding and catching their new serial killer in time for Christmas, but when happens when this murderer hits a little too close to home? Spamano, GerIta, PrusHun
1. Chapter 1

"I hate winter in the city." Antonio Fernandez Carriedo stated to his partner, Ludwig Beilschmidt, as the two walked along one of the many crowded, slushy streets that wove their way around New York. "I mean, it isn't even real _snow_. I'll never see what Lovi, or you for the matter see in crowded smoggy places like this."

Ludwig shrugged as the two turned around the corner of a large building, and walked up to a high end apartment complex surrounded by yellow CAUTION tape.

"I think we're at the right place." Antonio remarked, as the two officers snuck under the tape.

"Duly noted." Ludwig said, in a dry voice, as they flashed their badges at the police officers standing guard around the entrance of the complex, and walked inside, to be met by their entomologist, Eduard von Bock.

"Antonio! Ludwig!" He said with a smile, standing in the entrance of the place. It was huge with th tile floors. Nearby the revolving door entrance was a mahogany wooden desk with a fresh-looking bouquet of roses next to a phone. Behind the desk was a blue spinning chair, and not too far away from said desk were numbered wooden doors. The walls were wooden paneling covered with expensive-looking paintings.

"Whoah! No way!" Antionio exclaimed, walking towards the painting of pale white naked girl with a seemingly broken neck. Upon further examination by Ludwig, he noticed the woman was standing on a shell, two people floating above her, and he couldn't help but feel as though he'd seen his picture somewhere before.

"What is it?" He asked, pulling out a pair of disposable plastic gloves and putting them on his hands.

"_The Birth of Venus _by Sandro Botticelli." Antonio said, his eyes practically sparkling.

"Not the original of course." Eduard said from behind the two FBI agents. "But looks like it. Anyway, you two probably came for the body, so come on." As the man turned to escort the agents to their murder victim, Ludwig handed Antonio a pair of the same gloves he already had on his hands. The hallway was long, with even numbered doors on the right, and odd ones on the left. Walking past door 20, and taking a small alcove behind the last door on the right the three men were greeted by both an elevator and a winding staircase. Eduard pressed the UP button on the elevator with a mutter of "it's faster."

"So, who's our victim?" The German asked, as the three waited for their mode of transportation.

"Xiao Mei." Eduard responded.

"That name sounds familiar." Antonio noted. "An actress?"

"A fashion and interior designer." Eduard corrected as the elevator door opened and the three walked inside.

"Oh yeah!" Antonio exclaimed. "I know who she is!...Er was."

"How'd she die?" Ludwig asked as Eduard pressed the 5 button and the door closed.

"Suffocation. Something-we're led to believe rope-strangled her, and then the body was stabbed in the chest several times in her bathroom."

"Oh. Ludwig said quietly. After a while of silence the elevator door opened, and the three walked out and to door 95 near the end of the hall. The wooden door was ajar, and at first glance, everything looked normal. A large kitchen and a family room with a large flat screen TV and large red sofa, an empty bathroom, two unused bedrooms, an office, another-smaller-room with a television, and then the master bedroom. Connected to that was the bathroom in question.

"Oh." Antonio muttered, as he stepped into the bathroom. Laying on the tiled floor was the body in question. She looked as if she could be sleeping, if not for the blood that covered the front of her pink dress. On a nearby was a number. The number 1. Written in presumably blood. "Oh god." Antonio muttered as his legs gave out underneath himself and fell feet away from the body.

"Sheisse." Ludwig said softly, looking at the body.

"Yeah." Eduard nodded.

"We'll go see if there's anything in her room." Antonio said quickly, standing up and grabbing his partner's arm and walking the both of them away from the body.

The dead woman's room had white walls, her bed sheets and blankets were light pink, with some sort of flower decoration on them in dark pink. Next to her bed was a dresser, with one of the same pink flowers in a vase on top of it as in the bathroom. Upon further examination, Ludwig noticed a set of five pictures on the dresser. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to, but he picked one up-the first in the line of five-and looked at it.

The photograph held a line eight children, around five years old. The left-most wore a green shirt and green pants, and an overly large green hat that covered the child's eyes. Nevertheless, a huge grin shone on their face, their right hand holding the hand of the next child's. The second wore a green dress, and once again an overly-large hat, this one behind her head. Her dark brown hair was cut short, almost touching her shoulders, but not quite. While one hand was being held by the first child, her left arm was sprawled over the shoulder of the third child, who seemed to be in the act of falling backwards, into the girl with the green dress. The third child's mouth was wide open with the realization that he was falling. His shirt was red, with sleeves that extended over his hands, one of his legs up in the air. The child to his right wore a light pink dress, with a pink flower in her hair. She sat there, her eyes closed due to her large open mouth smile, her hands held together at the front of her dress, apparently unaware of the falling kid to her left. Next to her was a man(?) who seemed to be-while still a child-older than anyone else in the shot. Their brown hair was in a pony tail and over their right shoulder. They wore a green shirt, and were around a foot taller than the other kids. Next to them was a boy in a grey kimono and blue jacket, their arms wrapped around the green ones waist, looking worriedly at the camera with dark brown eyes. To his right was another child with dark brown hair, wearing some kind of Asian blue-wear with white sleeves. Both of their arms were up in the air, their right holding on to the left hand of a boy with crazy brown hair and glasses, wearing a white shirt. This child's right hand held limply at their sides.

Aaaaand….That's all for right now! (If you couldn't tell, the children were, in order, North Korea, Vietnam, Hong Kong, Taiwan, China, Japan, South Korea, and Thailand. Stick around for the other four!) Rate and Review please, bye!


	2. Chapter 2

Hi! It's me again! I was really motivated by my comments, so I decided to start working on this, the nest chapter. Thank you so much to the few people who commented! Oh, and I know that Asian countries have, in the photos, different hair than they do in canon, which is because I hate it when an anime character will have the exact same hair style their entire life, because that isn't how people work.

"Oh, what're you looking at?" Ludwig heard the voice of his partner ask, standing on his tip-toes to see over the blondes shoulder.

"Photographs." The German answered, looking towards the second picture. This one contained, once again, eight children in a row. He wasn't sure if they were the same children as the first ones-seeing as they all seemed to be older-but they were all wearing the same clothes as the child counterparts, only bigger., so he decided to act on the assumption that they were in fact the same children. Once again, the child to the far right was in a green shirt and pants, and the same hat, only, seeing as how they were all teenagers, the thing no longer covered his eyes and his hair hung down his back in a braid. He, no longer the large smiling child, stood with his back to the rest of the group, arms crossed on his chest, eyes looking intently at something out of the picture frame.

The girl to his left, wore the same green dress and hat as prior. She stood, facing the camera, with a closed-mouth smile, in her right hand she held a rather large oar, her left triumphantly on her waist. Next to her was the boy with the red shirt. His arms were at his sides and his face was contorted into an odd looking smile, which was probably due to the girl in the pink dress holding his face into such a smile, seemingly giggling at her result. Her hair was cut short, but still held the same pink flower in it. To her left was the character, with the same ponytail, still looking the oldest. A ponytail hung over their shoulder, hands to the sides, a big grin plastered across his face. The boy to his side held his hands crossed over his chest, a small smile over his face. The nextt in line still held both hands in the air, long white sleeves covering them. A strange curl stuck up from his head and reminded Ludwig of Feliciano, and, to a lesser extent, Lovino. To his side was the boy with glasses and messy hair, hands at his sides, with a big open-mouthed grin.

"Are those the same guys?" Antonio asked, butting into Ludwig's thoughts.

"I…believe so." He responded.

"Is that the same kid?" He asked, pointing a tan finger at the person to the far right, the one that had gone from having a large smile to standing in the corner almost angrily.

"Looks like it."

"What'd ya think happened?" Ludwig didn't respond.

"The girl in the pink," Antonio started, "that's our victim isn't it?"

"Yeah." Ludwig nodded, sadly. She looked so happy there, unaware of the grisly end she was soon to meet. He turned to the third photo.

Once again, the people were, despite being adults this time, wearing the same clothes as in the other two. In this one, since it seemed only five or six years had gone by, it was obvious that these people were the same as in the second photo. The character to the far right was no longer standing sideways, this time he was actually looking at the camera. Nevertheless, his expression was one of anger, and his green-clothed arms were crossed over his chest, his hat still on his head. The green dressed girl was, once again, smiling a large closed-mouth smile, her own long brown hair hung over a shoulder, her oar held behind her back, her hat on her head instead of behind it. The male in the red shirt stood with a small smile on his face, left hand holding the right one of the pink dressed girl with long hair and a flower in her hair. The dead girl. Once again her smiling unsuspecting face made Ludwig feel a bit sad. Her big grins made him think of Feliciano.

The fifth in line, who was once the tallest, found himself falling short of all but the boy in gray. Still, the eldest stood there, smiling, holding the other hand of the murder victim. He seemed to be in the midst of laughing. The shortest one, to the left of him, seemed to be laughing as well. Probably due to the man next to him, also laughing, his arm across the grey-clothed man. The messy haired one smiled, his eyes looking at the two next to him.

The fourth one, took a bit of a drastic change, actually. This photo didn't seem to have been taken too long after the third one. Already, just from a quick scan, everybody seemed…depleted. Sad. The left-most person held their right hand at their side and their left clasped with the green dressed girl, whose left hand was grabbing the red shirted boy, his left entwined in the murder victim's, whose left hand-in turn-held the pony-tailed man's right, his left grasping the right hand of the gray kimono-wearing one, only something was off. He was in a wheelchair, breathing tubes in his nose. His other hand held the boy who usually held his in the air, and then he and the messy-haired one held hands as well. Not to mention everybody was in tears. Or close to it. Even the one at the far right looked close to crying, and yet…they were all smiling. Fake smiles, no doubt, except for the boy in a wheelchair, the only one with a real smile.

And the fifth…he was gone. Not there. The shortest member of the eight-people party was gone. Nobody seemed to be even trying to smile now, they were all in tears. The same clothes as always, the victim still with a flower in her hair.

"He…died?" Antonio asked, worried from behind his partner.

"Yeah. I guess." Ludwig said, almost speechless. Even though he hadn't personally known anyone in the sequence of pictures, he had still seen them as children, teenagers, adults, and then gone. Maybe it was because such a thing reminded him that horrible things could happen at any moment-as if his job didn't do that already-to himself, Antonio, Lovino, his brother, or even Feliciano.

"That's…rough." Antonio muttered, and the German nodded in agreement. He wasn't good with touchy-feely stuff. "Well." The Spaniard said, stepping away from his partner, the dresser, and the pictures. "We should keep looking for clues." Again Ludwig nodded.

"Lovino, why aren't they back yet?" Feliciano asked his older brother, peeking out from behind his current painting.

"I don't know, maybe they're stuck in traffic." The eldest Vargas called from the kitchen, a mixing bowl held against his chest, a wooden spoon in his left hand.

"Hey Lovino, what're you making?" Feliciano asked, trying to look past the living room furniture to see his older brother, and to a bigger extent, what he was cooking.

"Nothing, just get back to…doing your thing." He said, twirling so as to keep his back to his younger brother. The two Italians were currently waiting for their significant others to come home from a new case, and even thought he wouldn't admit it, Lovino was starting to worry about what was taking them so long.

"Is it…pizza?" Feliciano asked, dipping his paintbrush into the red paint, and applying it to his almost done canvas as he sat on a stool in front of the fire place.

"No." Lovino said back, glancing at a cooking book to make sure he wasn't mixing too much.

"Is it…pasta?"

"No."

"Gelato?"

"There's more than just Italian food, you know."

"I know, but Italian food's the best. Oh wait. You prefer Spanish food, don't you Lovino?" The Italian froze mid-mix, and turned bright red.

"I don't…know what you're talking about." He said, trying his best to avoid any inappropriate conversation with his little brother.

"You love churros, and paellas, don't you?" The younger brother asked, confused as to why his brother was acting funny.

"Oh! Yeah. Yeah, I do." Lovino sighed a sigh of relief, his kid brother was still full of naivety and innocence, and it should stay that way.

"So…what're you making?" He asked again, ever persistent.

"It's gonna be a surprise, so shut it." Thankfully, that seemed to be enough of an answer to quiet the painter.

End of chapter 2~ I know nothing very interesting happened this round, but I felt like I needed to "set the mood" or something.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi! It's me again, and with chapter three! Sorry about the wait, school got really hectic but it's summer now and I can focus on my fics a lot more~!

Ludwig sighed as and Antonio wrapped up the investigation.

"No clues, huh?" Antonio asked, sitting up from where he had been laying, scrutinizing the white carpet in the living room for anything unusual.

"Nothing." Ludwig replied, pulling his plastic gloves off of one hand.

"Nothing over here either." Eduard announced, walking into the room. "Whoever this killer was, they were very neat about it. Aside from a few fibers from the rope he used to strangle her, we haven't found anything suspicious. Hopefully her body will tell us more."

"Amen." Antonio agreed, throwing his old gloves into a bag. "Now we can head home."_ Finally. God, this took forever. _The Spaniard let out a sigh of relief as he spread his arms out behind himself, leaning heavily on them in his rather lax position.

"Sheisse!" Ludwig almost growled, looking at his watch. "It's ten!"

"Really?" His partner asked, wide-eyed, as he watched the German pull out his phone. "Did Feliciano call?"

"Fifty five times." The German announced, running his left hand through his hair. "And sixty texts."

"Ugh, we told them we'd be there by eight!" Antonio muttered, sitting up straight and setting his head in his hands. "Lovi's probably freaking out too."

"Quiet!" The blonde instructed. "I'm calling them." He put his phone to the side of his head and waited.

"Oi, idiot what took so long? Feliciano was freaking out all night!" Lovino yelled into his brother's phone. "Since you're not dead that means Antonio's not dead either, right? Put him on I've got a lot to-"

"Hello to you too." Ludwig responded, rolling his blue eyes. "So, where is Feli exactly?"

"He's out cold asshole. Fell asleep about an hour ago."

"Ah." He nodded. "Putting Antonio on." He handed the cell phone to his partner who, as luck would have it, left his phone at the house.

"Hey." Antonio responded, preparing to get his ear chewed off by a fiery Italian. He was right. Lovino yelled, and he would give short a short "yes" or "Okay" every now and again to show he was listening, until his fiancée ran out of breath.

" So hurry up and come home, you idiot." Lovino instructed, before promptly hanging up.

"Wow. I heard that from over here." Eduard's voice reminded both Ludwig and Antonio that the Estonian was still in the room, leaning with his arms crossed against the doorframe. "He's pretty pissed, isn't he?"

"That's my Lovi." Antonio said with a touch of humor as he handed the phone back to his partner.

"If you'll excuse us," Ludwig started as he stood up. "we'll be going now."

"Yeah." Eduard pushed himself from the wall and walked towards the two. "I was actually planning on leaving soon, so I'll come too."

Antonio sighed, looking at the piles of paperwork he was given. _Just kill me instead. _The man thought exasperated to himself, before remembering the murder he'd investigated the other day. _Actually, never mind. _He sighed, and looked up at the clock set above himself and his wooden desk. It was a normal clock, white with black hands and numbers, set against a cream wall. Nearby Antonio could hear Ludwig, hurriedly filling out his own share of paper. _That man's a freaking tank! _

"Hey Ludwig, do ya think we'll get this guy before Christmas?" Antonio asked, throwing his hands behind his head and resting it in them as he slouched in his black swivel chair.

"If we catch him in twenty two days, then yes." The blonde answered. "That bloody one seemed to hint at more murders to come though."  
>"Yeah." The brunette agreed, looking up at the white ceiling, trying to make shapes out of the black dots on the white panels that made up the ceiling. "Hey, has the media made a big scene about it yet?"<p>

"I don't think so."

"Check again." Their boss, Alfred F. Jones, said, sliding into their office with a packet of papers in his left hand. "It's all over the news already. Man, those reporters are like piranhas or sharks or…something."

"Vultures." Antonio added.

"So what'd you have there?" The German asked, turning his chair away from his desk and towards the doorway.

"Autopsy reports." The American said, handing them to Ludwig. "Apparently she was stabbed with something akin to an everyday butcher's knife."

"Ah." The German nodded, flipping through the report himself.

"Media thinks it was her recently dumped boyfriend." Alfred added, leaning against the far wall in the office.

"An ex? It probably _was _him. After all, it's always the boyfriend." The Spaniard agreed, nodding his head.

"Slow down, _Sherlock._" Alfred remarked. "I think that since he was in Hawaii at the time of death, he's cleared."

"Unless he was using a body double. Or maybe a clone. Or what if he-"

"Okay, Einstein." Alfred rolled his eyes and looked at Ludwig, who just shrugged.

"Fine." Antonio huffed. "Then who do _you _think it is?"

"One of the siblings." "An angry fan." Ludwig and Alfred said at the same time.

"Well it had to have been someone she'd known." The Spaniard said. "That rope bit found in the bathroom means that she was killed in there. So whoever this was, she trusted them enough to walk into her bathroom with her. Or if they snuck in, they were on her in an instant because nothing seemed knocked over or out of place."

"Even so," The German started, closing the file and handing it to his partner. "she let them into her apartment with her."

"Or they forced her to." Alfred announced with a gleam in his eye, happy to know something neither of them did. "The guard was apparently sleeping on the job when it all happened, and the security footage was tampered with."

"Or maybe the guard did it?" Antonio questioned, flipping to a new page on the body. _What kind of a guard sleeps on the job? This isn't some low-budget murder mystery, after all._

"Possibly. We're having Ivan question him as we speak." The boss man said, pushing his glasses higher up on his face. "But I highly doubt it. He's one of those nervous skinny types. I don't think he'd be able to kill someone, both physically and mentally."

"So he was just an idiot at the right time?" Antonio questioned, to which Alfred nodded.

"Looks like it."

"Okay, so back to the whole tampering with the tape thing, what do you mean?" Ludwig asked this time.

"The footage was messed with to replay the previous hour in a loop for around three. We know that because it showed a couple walk in through the door, walk down the hallway, and then an hour later they'd show up again."

"Even so, the murderer could have been someone she knew." Antonio put the file back on his desk. "Correct?"  
>"Yes. We're hoping to get the family here tomorrow to talk to them too." Alfred walked out of the room, happy with their discussion, while the two agents went back to their paperwork.<p>

Okay, so maybe this chapter ended up being another action-less one, so I apologize. I also only know how any of this works from watching Bones and Law and Order and The Closer, so I probably don't actually know how any of this actually works! If I screwed something up, please let me know so I can fix it, and, as always, please review and favorite or follow or whatever because it lets me know people like this story!


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